Joy Farrington comments on the treatment of a young girl by cops at a pool party in Texas

Joy Attmore

Rosie stood against a fire hydrant in the warm morning sunshine, her hair pulled off of her face into a short ponytail that was then pinned to the back of her head with a row of bobby pins. A baggy white t-shirt covered her chest and torso, which was met by a pair of black shorts just before her knees; socks were pulled up over her calves and her feet were shod with house slippers. Many people would glance at Rosie and immediately dismiss her, boxing her off as crazy, a misfit or just not worth their time. I have come to love my little run-ins with her however and often make sure I stop in our apartment's stairwell to have a catch-up and hear how she's doing. Standing not higher than five foot tall, Rosie is a real Puerto Rican New Yorker who has such a heart of gold, but will always speak exactly what's on her mind.

"Morning Rosie!" I greeted her as I stepped out of our apartment building, pulling my laundry bag behind me. "Are you having a good time with your niece?"

"Oh gosh, she's driving me crazy!" Rosie threw up her hands in frustration. Her fifteen year old niece had come to stay with her for a couple of weeks and it clearly wasn't going well. "She's a snob, she's disrespectful and we don't get on. Honestly, I can't wait until she leaves."

"Oh wow, I'm sorry to hear that love!"

Rosie was soon talking in detail about why she was so upset with her niece and how she had felt dishonoured by her. I stood there and listened, offering the occasional comment, but letting her externally process her frustration. As she talked, the conversation veered into discussing young people as a whole, the topic of race and political agenda in the States. Some of her views surprised me with the tenacity that she expressed them with, but what struck me the most was a phrase that she repeated several times, "It comes from the home and that's sad."

This week a story hit the news here in the States of cops turning up to a pool party in Texas, after parents had complained that there were unruly teenagers there who hadn't been invited, and forcibly detaining a 14 year old, African-American female by throwing her to the ground and pinning her down on her stomach. A video went viral detailing the whole of this exchange that shows an alarming mistreatment of the young teenager.

I sat and watched the video with my husband, feeling my stomach turn with sickness and my mouth drop open in shock. The footage raised questions about racism as all of the young people targeted were people of colour, but even beyond the topic of race I was shocked at how these teenagers in swimwear were being mistreated. I imagined myself in that position, a teenage girl in my bikini getting thrown to the ground, pulled by my hair and pinned down by a grown man. Feelings of humiliation, trauma, anger and panic came to mind.

As a female, I have had incredible male role models in my life, men who have protected, honoured, loved and released me as a woman. They have treated me as a daughter, or a sister; a human being who is valuable and therefore worthy of being valued. I would expect nothing less from a police officer, even if I was mouthing off at him. Nobody, no matter their race, outward appearance or beliefs should expect to be treated with anything less than respect from another human being. And yet we are mistreating each other. We're not looking at each other as brothers or sisters, sons or daughters, mothers or fathers. We're not treating each other as family, but we've lowered the standard to whether somebody fits into our box of acceptable.

The teenagers arrested at the pool party in Texas didn't fit into somebody's ideal box, as they were loud, talked back, didn't seem to respect the elders around them and were a different colour than the authority figures present. Rosie doesn't fit into her niece's box of what is cool or worthy of her time, she lives off of disability allowance, doesn't really care for her appearance and does little more with her days than sit on the front step of our apartment building. The police officers weren't deemed worthy of respect by the young people due to their harsh words, swinging batons and lack of honouring treatment of them. In each scenario people were writing each other off rather than seeing them as image bearers, as a cherished member of a family, as a human being.

I feel stirred and challenged by these events to ensure that from big to small encounters with people I am treating them with honour, as I would a member of my family and therefore reminding them of who they are regardless of their race, age or economic status. We are each beautiful human beings, created in the image of God to bring Him glory and honour. That should be our standard for relationship and treatment of one another.